


I Want To Go Home

by Abitofeveryfandom



Category: Descendants (Disney Movies)
Genre: descriptive fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-06-13 13:22:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15365583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abitofeveryfandom/pseuds/Abitofeveryfandom
Summary: Lost, scared, broken. They wander through life like shadows. They're puppets in the too bright lights of Auradon and puppets to the villains on the isle. but they are -not- like them.





	1. Broken Heroes

**Author's Note:**

> I really love descriptive writing, and I really love Descendants, so here you go. (Also let's all collectively consider that Mal with a pixie cut can and should exist.)

They weren't perfect, far from it. They were battered and bruised and they were -broken-, but they weren't as rotten as one might think. Constant abuse had made them mature beyond their age and hard as stone. Malnourishment made them hide piles of food in brand new rooms. They were scary and ghostly, intimidating. They were a family, as strange as they might seem. Their bonds lasted far beyond the dirty roads of the isle, all the way into the sparkling corridors of Auradon. Eyes trailed them wherever they went, suspicious and scared. 

A young faery led their group forward, daughter of one feared beyond belief. She made her eyes glow green like -hers- and sprouted horns when she screamed. People obeyed her when she beckoned them to come forward and then stomped them to pieces with the heels of her back boots. Her purple locks were cut short to show off her pointed ears, pierced with rings of black and silver.   
Behind her stood a witch, red magic seeped from her fingertips and made people stare as she walked past. The hearts of ignorant admirers became her playthings. her high-pitched laughter echoed between castle walls, a terrified undertone always disgracing her melodious voice. She would never be satisfied when looking at her perfect reflection, a mirror image of one so twisted they once called -Queen-.   
Holding tightly onto both these girls was an ordinary boy with a brilliant mind. His hands could create wonders and his eyes could bewitch without wanting to. His broken soul observes eternally, barely acting yet always knowing. A thousand freckles dust his cheeks, the spots so eerily reminiscent of those -she tried to capture so long ago.   
Towering over the three of them, fire in his gaze, stands a boy with his pockets filled to the brim with stolen treasures. Tattoos spiral across his chest and over his arms, covering the bruises he so desperately tries to hide. The fire in his gaze dims as he empties his pockets once again and takes the beating -he- is ever so fond of.

But they are -not- their parents.

They run through crowded streets and past empty castles squealing with laughter. They let their magic carry them to higher grounds where forever they'll be safe. They stick together through all of it, bandaging wounds and wiping away stray tears from dirty cheeks. They are not truly rotten, not to the core, at least.


	2. Villains Gone Soft

While a family of four roams around town, a group of misfits make the docks (un)safe. They gather up street rats and errand boys and lost girls and bruised kids, they fight to live. They hide away on street corners, making schemes to survive and harm if necessary. They wander through the cold, cold water and pick up broken pieces so they can mend them. None of them will ever be alone, even though some of them are stronger.

In front of them stands the spawn of the sea, sword in hand. She is fierce and defensive, protecting all she loves with her life. A seashell necklace keeps her tied to her roots, proud of her powers and the blue magic buzzing in her veins. The fearsome look in her dark brown eyes reminds everyone of her kinship to a creature as cold and cruel as the waves -she- loves so dearly.   
On her right (always her right) stands a boy, almost a man, with a glint of madness in his black-lined eyes. He is almost overflowing with anger, lashing out at the tiniest problem. Only her presence keeps him down, keeps him real. He raises his voice and raises his hook and for a second he is taller and older and the light plays tricks on their eyes. He looks like -him-.   
Behind both of them, hands on their shoulders, stands a boy with a simple mind and a simple smile. He doesn't belong in a place so cruel. His sword sits on his hip, but it has barely ever been used. He's always ready to help, to please, but all he does is be a burden. They love him deeply nonetheless. He crosses his arms and smiles, mirroring the posture of one consumed by -greed- so long ago.

They are -not- their parents. 

Though hardened and bitter, with sharp tongues and sharp weapons, they dance through life in a ballet of beauty. They let her magic sweep them away to a life beyond the barrier. They protect and love more intensely than anyone ever could, ever would. they are not evil, not really.


End file.
